


Prédestiné

by Myr



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Flower Language, Forbidden Love, I might have overdone it on the history, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 21:46:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7908742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myr/pseuds/Myr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the obligatory soulmate fic for every fandom! Jk I didn't actually check if there already was one, but shhh. </p><p>This has the young Philippes as soulmates, in a place where soulmates are not okay. Because nobles don't marry for love. Nobles marry for duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prédestiné

Duty, Philippe muses, is something that he would be chained to for his whole life. No, not by his own choice, but because they took that choice away from him at birth. You see, soulmates were something for the common folk. The nobility, and especially les princes de sang, had no use for it. They married only between each other, for money, for power and for politics. What was the meaning of a few words scribbled on your body when your marriage could determine the faith of your family, of your country? These people who ruled the world could not risk losing their children to something as trivial as love, so they purged it from their lives, and burned it from their skin.

This practice had been going on since the dawn of time and so Philippe had never seen the words on his skin, as they had been stolen from him at birth. Usually these nobles just accepted it, because it was hard to miss something you had never known or seen, shielded of from the world as they were. They showcased these perverse marks of status, wore the brands as proof of their importance. But there were cases where it hurt. Sometimes the servants tried to gain a nobles attention by claiming they said their words. Sometimes people felt like they knew, sensed the bond or suspected it, but could never have it confirmed.

With Philippe it was different. He knew. Even though he had never seen the words on his skin, he was absolutely positive. You see, as the brother of the king, there were very specific ways in which the court , and everyone else, greeted you. And there were very few people who broke that rule. Oh, accidents happened and there would always people who dared to breech the etiquette. But this time it had been different.

It had happened on a warm summer night in 1658. He had been walking in le jardin des Tuileries with le Comte de Guiche and an entourage of other young nobles, the air sultry and filled with distant music. This was of course years before Colbert had ordered le Notre to make it into a jardin à la française, or before his brother had moved his whole court to Versailles. They had been close to the west side of the gardens, where La grande mademoiselle used to hold court when he was a child, before she was expelled from the palace and the gardens.

Philippe had wanted to stroll arm in arm with de Guiche, his favourite, along the flower-lined promenade, but the count had had other ideas. The young prince adored him, but de Guiche knew he was the most handsome man at court, and it often annoyed Philippe that he had so much concurrence for his attention, even though he would not voice these thoughts to the older man.

Having wandered away from their group a little to examine a statue of the Greek goddess Ananke, he observed as another group of young nobles approached them. Most of them were just regular courtiers who had been playing cards at the palace royal earlier, but he spotted two heads of curls that he hadn't seen before. The two groups of young men merged, and Philippe heard the distant sounds of introductions. Crossing his arms behind his back, he turned towards the statue again, knowing that the two young men would want to introduce themselves soon enough, as he was the kings' brother. Not wanting to look too enthusiastic, he would let the others come to him, and not the other way around.

After merely a few moments Philippe felt someone stepping up behind him, and he turned around to accept an introduction, containing a smirk. His urge to grin left him immediately though, as he took in the angel that now stood in front of him. The youth, looking only a few years younger than he, was the most beautiful living human he had ever seen. His face sported an amused and confident expression that made it look ethereal, and Philippe was rendered completely speechless. The other looked him up and down, the corners of his mouth twitching, and when the prince still could say nothing, his heart hammering in his chest, he opened his mouth.

 

"Ha."

 

_-Badum-_

 

"I think I have found the most beautiful statue in the garden-" He said, with a smirk, not taking his eyes away from Philippe, and slowly stepping around him. This was the moment when Philippe suspected what was happening, the three marks on his wrist appearing in his mind. The first burn was tiny, followed by enough open space for just one more line. Next was a long sentence that was branded away, followed by enough place for two more lines. Philippe swallowed.

 

_-badum-_

 

_-badum-_

 

And finally there was one more word burned away. The prince closed his eyes as the other noble finished his circle right behind him. He leaned in, his mouth right next to Philippe's ear, completely beyond what was appropriate, but Philippe did not mind at all, as he whispered:

"-Mignonette."

It was probably the most out of line introduction the prince had ever experienced, but Philippe couldn't think about that. The only way he would ever be able to prove this stranger what they ment to eachother were with the next words that left his mind. He had only one chance. If his soul mark was burned away with a big brand, like the fleur-de-lys mark they used on his brother, he wouldn't react to anything. But if they had shown mercy, only burning away what was absolutely necessary, he could hope. Philippe opened his eyes the tiniest bit, and his gaze fell on the primroses growing in the flowerbed in front of him. That was the moment where he made up his mind, to the sound of his heart pumping in his ears.

 

"Not a statue."

 

_-badum-_

 

"A flower."

He stepped forward and crouched, picking up the most beautiful primrose. Standing up again, he turned around and held out the flower to the gorgeous man.

 

_-badum-_

 

_-badum-_

 

_-badum-_

"-A flower waiting to be picked." Philippe finished with a melancholic smile. The stranger's eyes, who had been looking at the flower , snapped up to meet Philippe's, frowning in what might be recognition and curiosity. He could have been completely mistaken though, wanting nothing more than to see that.

 

"Ah Monsieur, have you got acquainted with my dearest friend His highness Philippe de Lorraine?"

Both snapped out of their mesmerized state at once and blinked. The prince coughed and averted his gaze to le comte de Guiche, who put his hand affectionately on the arm of the younger de Lorraine. Philippe knew that his favourite was already planning on seducing the beautiful angel into his bed and sighed internally.

"In fact, he has not introduced himself as of yet." he said, trying to keep his voice stern. de Lorraine grinned like a cat that got the milk.

"Pardon my insolence, your royal highness." he said, performing a tiny bow and scrape, but looking everything but remorseful. de Guiche chuckled and motioned to the other young man that had appeared to his left side.

"This is his Highness Louis de Lorraine, Prince étranger and recently appointed Grand écuyer de France. Monsieur le Grand and his younger brother, his highness Philippe de Lorraine, have just arrived from their father's estates in Alsace."

The prince had of course heard of the appointment of the new Grand écuyer, which would be done officially in a week and half, but he had no clear memory of seeing the de Lorraine brothers before. After les Frondes their father, his Highness Henri de Lorraine, also Grande écuyer before his son, had retired from the court after disagreements with Mazarin. Apparently the court had been missing out a lot. He nodded politely as the older brother bowed and offered his hand for a kiss.

"A pleasure to meet you, Monsieur. May I congratulate you with your appointment?"

"Thank you, your royal highness.", the man replied, politely enough, but the prince could see he was not very interested. Clearly he had already been informed that Philippe wouldn't be the most opportune way to accumulate power at court. Philippe quickly diverted his attention back to the younger brother. His soulmate, his treacherous brain provided, and his heart skipped a beat as their eyes met.

"Chevalier de Lorraine. An absolute delight to make your aquaintance, your royal highness." He said, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he took the prince's hand and his lips ghosted over his knuckles. With the attention back on the younger brother, de Guiche noticed the primrose he was holding.

"What a beautiful flower." He smiled seductively. "Are you planning on gifting it to an equally beautiful person?" It was clear that he was angling for a compliment and the flower, and if it had not been his gift to the Chevalier, Philippe would have found it endearing, but now he was not as pleased with the idea of the flower being passed on.

"Certainly not. I already received it from someone who's beauty far surpasses the most stunning of flowers, and I will therefore cherish it as the most valuable gift." the Chevalier said with a small smile to the prince, who blushed fiercely and hoped that his makeup would hide that. de Guiche looked at him and very subtly shifted his stance, now appearing to stand more with the prince than with the Chevalier. Philippe found it rather amusing, and was secretly flattered that de Guiche could be brought to jealousy. He was clearly interested in the newcomers, but it was nice to see that he seemed to value Philippe even more.

"You didn't present me with flowers, cheri." he pouted, and it was clear from his slightly raised eyebrow that the Chevalier could easily guess the nature of their relationship. Philippe didn't know if he hoped that his soulmate was jealous, or if he hoped that he wasn't. the count was entertaining and very charming, but this man was his soulmate. It was ridiculous, but Philippe was a hopeless romantic, and he already knew he wanted the Chevalier for himself, no matter the cost.

"You already receive gifts from me almost every day, dearest. Don't begrudge my new friend a flower." Philippe replied, patting him fondly on the arm, but keeping his eyes on the Chevalier. The use of the word my instead of our had been a clear message, and the chevalier smiled while de Guiche pouted. He did loop his arm around the prince's, now paying much more attention to him while they continued their tour of the gardens.

He didn't have any more time alone with the Chevalier that evening, but the air was full of quick glances and smiles. Philippe couldn't remember ever feeling this giddy and excited, and when they retired for the night, he fell asleep content, feeling like he had finally found something in his life outside of the duties he was chained to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!
> 
> lots of notes:
> 
> Sources used are partylike1660 4S article about Chevalier (and probably subconsciously a lot of her other writing too. Wikipedia to check stuff I wasn't sure about anymore and my university notes about Louis XIV. 
> 
> I mainly used Philippe as the name for Monsieur, instead of his title, because at that age he was only le petit Monsieur, and that would have been too long to type out every time. (this decision was made before I typed out all the your highnesses
> 
> And yes, I am pretty sure the actual Monsieur and Chevalier met earlier, but as this is a soulmate AU, with importance on first words and all, I took creative liberties, but I tried to make it kinda plausible?
> 
> -on flowers in chapter 1 and 2-  
> I couldn't find anything on flower language at the court of Louis XIV so I just plucked stuff from the interwebz:  
> wikipedia says a primrose is a symbol of eternal love
> 
> a lot of sites say orange blossoms are also symbols of eternal love, and were considered aphrodisiac in certain times.  
> Hydrageas have a wide variety of meanings, but here the purple ones specifically symbolise "understanding" (according to multiple flower sites). victorians however considered it to mean frigidity, so it's fitting in a way bcs the unavailability of Monsieur. There's also a medieval belief that young women who pick Hydrageas would not marry, so maybe it's a bit of wishful thinking from Chevalier too ;D
> 
> none of these probably bloom at the same time, but after searching without luck for hours after french flower language, I was too discouraged to look it up and find stuff that actually matches XD  
> \---------------------------  
> Sorry for the spelling mistakes, English is only my third language.
> 
> And bcs someone mentioned it was a little strange, when Monsieur says he is "A flower to be picked", he means the inevitability of his life. He can't choose or have his soulmate, and he won't choose who he marries, so he can only wait for what life throws at him.  
> I know, dramatic. But don't tell me he isn't XD
> 
> If I don't update soon, am not dead, I am just in university, which might as well be the same thing but oh well.


End file.
